Indio
Stories
In the sweet September skyand the world weighs on my shouldersThere I wrote the writing on the walland I wrote the words before it allAnd as the days passed I would not ageand as the time flickered I held fastFor I have seen destiny unfoldand I know the story before it's toldStories of truth and divine interventionStories of bliss and of painStories of war and the one last inventionthe story that's still to be toldAnd on this ocean there are leaves in the waterThat rise to the surface to dry in the sunFall on this wake the trees and the gun fireAsh stains like blood on the wallFor I see no other wayand wisdom still speaks strongerHowever insufferable the homethe house that we burn is still our ownAnd so it has gone as I have been stayedEternally damned in idle restraintFor I have seen destiny unfoldand I know the story before it's toldStories of truth and divine interventionStories of bliss and of painStories of war and the one last inventionThe story that's still to be told
From Letras Mania